I was talking to a friend the other day about how the heart bounces back after love is lost. She told me that when her lover left her, he took a piece of her heart with him. She said she was a wrecked mess who felt like she'd never be whole again. But I thought about how different I've been when lovesick. No one ever took a part of me with them, they left a part. My heart's been split into sections for all sorts of things but when you leave me, your space stays and I think that's why we all ache a bit. We're not getting ripped apart, we're being abandoned. When that silly love from adolescence was over, I felt bitter for not knowing how to make up for that blank space. I was great with him and without, but without I felt the absence. And when I saw him again, I saw that spot of myself being filled again. Luckily, there's not much room left now.
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